


Make it to the other side

by Elisexyz



Category: Lost in Space (TV 2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Post-Episode: s01e10 Danger Will Robinson, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23169817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: Ignoring problems doesn’t make them go away. Penny figures it’s worth a shot anyway.
Relationships: John Robinson & Penny Robinson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 25





	Make it to the other side

**Author's Note:**

> I found this almost done on my pc and I got John&Penny feelings, so... I've finished it! It's set after they've arrived on the water planet, in the gap between the two seasons.  
>  Also, if there's anyone reading that knows clinical psychology, yeah, this isn't technically PTSD because it's too soon after the traumatic event, but ASD has the same symptoms and isn't as largely known, so I figured in this case it'd be more useful to mistag (I felt the need to clarify this because there's my clinical psychology textbook _staring right at me_. I know, dude, I know, shut up).  
>  Enjoy!

The first step is thinking about it as little as possible.

As soon as she realizes that her thoughts are starting to tread dangerous waters, she just goes ‘ _No no no, bad Penny, think happy thoughts’_ , and she tries to come up with cute bunnies or pretty flowers or whatever _isn’t_ death and destruction.

(It would work a lot better if the memories didn’t usually come in sudden flashes that she has no idea how to stop and that leave her with her throat closed for ages after.)

The second step is called Operation Hogging Dad.

Oh, Dad is going to deal with dinner? Penny is on her feet, ready to help. He’s assisting Don while he does maintenance, so they can be ready to fly away at any given moment? A third set of eyes can’t hurt, can it? She’ll hold the flashlight if nothing else.

Whatever her dad is doing, she does her best to shadow him, because reminding herself that everything is fine and dandy comes a lot more easily when she can turn to him for proof.

(Well, unless he’s going outside, that is, because seeing him all geared up gives her the creeps. Hard pass.)

She figured he wouldn’t notice: she can be, admittedly, a little clingy at times, so there was a good chance that he would not think twice about her following him around.

(Hope dies last, right?)

“So,” her dad begins, stopping just outside of the airlock to turn to her. “What’s the matter?”

(There. Hope is dead.)

Penny handles it with remarkable readiness, if she can say so herself. “We are stranded on a toxic planet with no idea how to get back in orbit?” she offers, with a bit of a sarcastic smile because the situation almost always calls for it.

He seems a little amused, but that small shake of his head, sadly, isn’t followed by him dropping the subject. “I _meant_ ,” he clarifies, with a look of gentle reprimand. “What’s the matter with _you_ , specifically? Me dealing with Smith is basically a punishment —”

“Well, you _are_ the one who didn’t let Mom throw her out,” she points out, shrugging. She’s pretty sure that her mom was at least half serious when she considered being rid of that devilish woman once and for all.

“As I have been reminded multiple times.” He rolls his eyes. “Still, that begs the question, what are you doing sharing my punishment? I’ve noticed we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, so —”

“Okay,” she snorts, and it’s a little forced and very inappropriate, but she has to do _something_ , and she doesn’t want to _talk_ about this, so — “I didn’t mean to be _annoying_. I’ll just leave you alone for your punishment.”

Her attempt at fleeing the scene lasts just about long enough for her dad to register what she just said and reach out for her arms.

“Hey, hey, wait,” he’s quick to say. He doesn’t exactly pull her back, his hold is gentle, but she lets herself be turned around. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

He sounds so guilty that it makes her feel even more like shit. She wants to say that she knows and that he didn’t really do anything wrong, but she can’t exactly tell him that she’s going for avoidance and deflection there without him asking what it is that she’s trying to steer him away from.

“It’s just that you usually want at least a little bit of time to yourself and — I don’t know, I figured there might be something wrong.” He pauses, waiting for her to look up to his face, hands still on her arms, before asking: “Is something bothering you?”

Yup.

Absolutely.

“Nothing much,” she shrugs, trying to come up with a smile. “I guess I’m just a little stressed at the thought that I might be trapped with only Will and Judy for company for the rest of my life, that’s all.”

“Penny.”

There’s definitely a ‘do you really think I’m buying that’ flavour to that call out.

“Come on, talk to me.”

She kinda wants to, except she _doesn’t_. She can’t — she doesn’t want to think about it. If she ignores it hard enough, it might disappear. After all, nothing happened, they are _safe_ —

(The Jupiter goes up in flames right in front of them, all too evidently against the night sky – it would be pretty, if there weren’t her _dad_ in there. She can’t breathe.)

“I keep _seeing_ it,” she gets out, trying to blink away the memory, her attempt at breathing choking her.

He frowns, concerned, and at least his hands remind her that he’s _there_.

(That _she_ is there with him too.)

“Seeing what?” he asks.

“The — the explosion.” As she says it, it feels like she has taken a step back, letting the words out beyond her control. She doesn’t care, she’s okay, she’s okay, she’s — “The Jupiter.”

She sees the moment his face lightens up in understanding and then twists to pain, and she’s willing to bet that he’s mentally kicking himself for not noticing.

“I know nothing happened,” she continues before she can stop herself, her voice a little strained. “I just — I can’t stop it.”

He nods, his mouth opening and closing because he clearly has no idea what to say to make it better. Good thing that now that she has started talking she also conveniently forgot how to _stop_.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to talk about it,” she says. “Not to _you_ specifically, just —” She trails off, shrugging and finding sudden interest in an indefinite point in space – ah, _space_ – on his right.

“Hey, I get it,” he eventually says, as soft as the hands rubbing her arms. “Thank you for telling me anyway.”

She tentatively looks up to him, finding that ridiculously understanding expression and kinda wanting to cry because he’s _there_ , and she ends up stepping forward, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she can. He soon imitates her, and as she’s engulfed into his arms it’s easy to close her burning eyes and feel safe.

“You know, sweetie — talking helps,” he eventually says, rubbing her back. “You can come to me any time.”

“I know,” she mutters, cheek pressed against his shirt. “There’s just — there isn’t a lot to say.”

He hums noncommittally, and thankfully he doesn’t seem to have any intention of stepping away, yet. For all that there’s still a knot in her stomach and she is sure that she will feel embarrassed about having revealed all this, she doesn’t want to let go yet.

“I was thinking that you don’t necessarily have to _talk_ —” he says then, thoughtfully. “You still like writing, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Then how about you try writing about how you are feeling?” he suggests. “You don’t _have_ to come to me, or anybody else, but you can’t ignore it either. That just makes it worse, alright?”

“Of course it does,” she puffs, trying to appear annoyed even though she can’t help smiling widely, because writing — that she can do. Words just come easier when she isn’t speaking them. “Okay, I’ll try that,” she says then, quietly. “Thanks, Dad.”

He lays a kiss on her hair, giving her a squeeze. “Any time.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates comments, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


End file.
